Swiss people, researchers and brazilians

I want to start by talking about Switzerland. Last Thursday on French class, Monsieur C. Told us about the Swiss. He says that they don’t have any free time, but they don’t need it because they do what they love. I’m not sure of how much of this is true, but he says that the Swiss love their work, that they are passionate about it. He says that if we’re not totally convinced of what we study we should quit and go after something else, because it’s not worth it. If you do what you love instead, you will never truly have to work, because work won’t feel like it for you. It will be fun and lovable. And even thought Swiss people doesn’t have as much free time as we do, they don’t need it, they enjoy being active and making high quality products.

The big news is that I finally got rid of Logic. I got a not-awesome-but-not-to-be-ashamed note, and the teacher said I didn’t have to go anymore. I think I will miss him, because even though his subject was insufferable, he was a cool guy. But that closes a chapter in my life, and I just have to finish my research to finally have peace.

The hipster crew is back! It turns out they didn’t really go to the congress; they just stayed the first day and then left to know the city. When they told me I got upset, because I really wanted to go to learn and I couldn’t, while they, having the opportunity, didn’t take it. But anyway, it’s their life, and eventually they’ll realise that they wasted their time. Of course, this also means that Curlz is back in my life, and that’s starting to get tense. The problem is that Zumbi is coming to see her in a month, and the closest they are, the more jealous I get. I know I shouldn’t, because I’m not dating her. In fact, Samba-pants is, or at least that’s what she says. I found very suspicious that he asked her to buy him a PS4 and then paid for it, like some sort of illegal console dealing (the PS4 triples its price in Brazil). And she keeps talking about him, like if we didn’t know already that he’s coming. It’s really annoying, but again, what choice do I have? She’s older, smarter, beautiful and pretty rich. And he’s all that too. Next to them, I look like a Magikarp between a Snorlax and a Kyroge. I simply don’t have anything to offer her.

But what makes me angry is how she treats me. She acts as if we were flirting. She gives me hints, she gets jealous if I give my attention to other girls, she plays with my hands and sometimes tries to provoke me. One day, for example, we were hanging out with the crew and Curlz was lying under a tree. I was sitting next to her and we were talking about ridiculous songs that inexplicably got famous.  She wanted me to hear one on her iPod, and while I was listening, she took my hand and put it on her foot, and during the time the song lasted she slowly moved my it until I was almost touching her… well, you know. Normally I would take this as a sign that she wants something with me, but that is difficult if she spends all day, every day, talking about how much she loves João and how she wants him to come. What am I supposed to do? Just stay there, seeing how tension between us becomes so strong that you can cut it with laser? Tell her to forget her perfect boy and stays with me, the loser who can’t afford even one date with her? Or become the other guy, the one she cheats on him with? Now, that would make me hate myself even more. Once I was cheated on by the girl I most loved, and what she hurt me so much that I decided to never be that guy. It doesn’t matter what I want to do with Curlz, I will NOT become the other guy.

In the mean time, there are six days left before The Day of The Doctor, and I haven’t told Whovie about my idea. Damn, I haven’t even seen her. I’m starting to believe that it was a bad idea after all, but again, it’s Doctor Who. And for all I know she’s going to be there, alone in her couch, having no one to share it with. She loves Doctor Who, and I know how it feels having something you love and not being able to share it with anyone. I just have this week left, and I don’t know what to do. I need to make up my mind as soon as possible. For now, I’ll just buy the fish fingers and custard and think about it. But as I see it, my best chance to tell her is sending a message through Magikarp. They share a class, and I don’t know anything about Whovie’s schedule; besides, she doesn’t use Facebook and never answers the phone. So that means I have only today to decide.

The book fair was great. I bought sixteen books for me and four for my sister, whose birthday is today. The only bad thing is that they’re translated, and Spanish translators don’t always put their effort on it. I was reading George R. R. Martin’s Wild Cards, and it’s so full with American slang that you can taste the eagle feathers on it. But everything is roughly translated, like if the guy in charge had just given a dictionary to a middle school student and told him to do it. I’m thinking that I might download the English version to read the original. Of course, I’m not paying twice because some moron did a bad job, so expect me on your eBooks websites.

I believe that there’s not much left to tell. I haven’t done a thing with my research, if you were asking. I can’t find the data I need to back up my nonsense. I don’t want to become a researcher; it’s too difficult, at least in my country. And you don’t even get paid! Here, there are two kinds of teachers in the universities: permanent teachers and contract teachers. Permanent teachers are unmovable, but not because they had earned it. They are unmovable because fifty years ago, when the Secretary of Public Education tried to open public schools all around the country, they found out that there were no teachers. So they offered permanent jobs to everyone who studied to become a teacher. Not only that, but they are legally allowed to turn their children into permanent workers as well, and it doesn’t matter how, the State must provide them with something for their children because it’s their constitutional right. And it’s the same with public health, oil industry and almost any organisation controlled by the government. You can imagine how much it has damaged the country. Lazy people just study to get the minimum required note, demand their right to become teachers and then do what they want, because both the law and the syndicate (that’s right, THE syndicate, the one that monopolises all jobs) protect them from being fired. They have the best salaries, healthcare, they’re the only people with job stability in this terrible economy and they are not required to do anything. Right now they are fighting all around the country because the government wants to force them to take proficiency tests, and they say that either a) the tests must not exist or b) even failing them shouldn’t bring them any consequences. And there are a lot of other things on the table of this semi-revolution, but I think I better make another post later to explain it.

Anyway, the contract teachers don’t have any of these rights, and in order to keep getting contracts they are obliged to do research to justify their staying. And they don’t generate working years –they work six months and then start from zero even on the same school- so they can’t retire. As a result, their research is rarely good and it’s getting worst over the generations. So there you have it, that’s why becoming a researcher is out of my mind. As soon as I finish my major I won’t do it again. And I hope that’s soon.

Well, to sum up, the three things I learnt this weekend:

1.- Switzerland is great, I might go work there someday.

2.- NEVER be a teacher in Mexico.

3.- When it’s about love, you have to think fast. Really fast. Let’s say, before a Brazilian douche comes to your country and takes the girl away. Well, that’s not really a lesson, but it’s the best I have.

Wish me luck! I think I’ll need it.



Next Post: Think about those who love you


2 thoughts on “Swiss people, researchers and brazilians

  1. Pingback: A wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey dilemma | Chronicles Of A Lonely Writer

  2. Pingback: About Schools, Doctors and a Crazy Girl | Chronicles Of A Lonely Writer

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